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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/27429907">you're so quiet.</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/notspring/pseuds/notspring'>notspring</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Series:</b></td><td>you're the place i can go [3]</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>SEVENTEEN (Band)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Babies, Enlistment, Family, Loneliness, M/M, well. one baby.</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-11-12</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-11-12</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-18 01:13:33</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>General Audiences</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>1,600</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/27429907</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/notspring/pseuds/notspring</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>It’s not —</p><p>It’s fine. It isn’t what he wants, but it’s fine, and if he spends the entire time feeling like he’s waiting for something, well.</p><p>That’s just because he is.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Boo Seungkwan/Chwe Hansol | Vernon</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Series:</b></td><td>you're the place i can go [3]</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Series URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/series/1884562</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>26</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>151</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>you're so quiet.</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p><br/>
<br/>
Dokyun wanders off to the balcony to talk to Hansol’s father after lunch, but Hansol doesn’t follow them — he knows they’re going to smoke, and Hansol promised Seungkwan he’d quit. </p><p>He thinks about joining his mom and Seulhae in the kitchen, but he only makes it a few steps in that direction before he hears the words “lactation” and “swelling” in quick succession, catches a glimpse of the look of panicked revulsion on Hangyeol’s face, and beats a hasty retreat back into the living room instead.</p><p>That leaves Inhye to keep him company, sat comfortably on her blanket on the living room floor. Hansol peers down at her little face, finding her wide eyes peering right back. </p><p>“What should we do, hmm?” Hansol asks quietly, folding himself down onto the floor, careful not to sit on any of her toys — there are so many of them, somehow, even though she’s only staying at Hansol’s parents’ for the weekend. He’s afraid to see what the living room in her own house looks like. </p><p>Inhye pushes herself up to toddle over curiously, half-sitting and half-collapsing on the floor next to him. Hansol laughs, steadying her on the carpet. </p><p>Inhye’s old enough to talk but not old enough that anything she says makes much sense, so Hansol mainly just hums in acknowledgment as she babbles, smiling when she hands him one of her colourful toys with a solemn expression on her face. </p><p>“Thank you, Inhye-yah,” Hansol says, equally solemn as he looks down at what turns out to be a plastic carrot, a little chewed at one end. “Excellent choice, very nutritious.”</p><p>Inhye’s garbled response could be an agreement or something else entirely, but either way she’s smiling happily, so Hansol supposes it doesn’t matter too much. He smiles back, still holding the carrot.</p><p>He watches Inhye turn her attention back to a set of blocks, clumsily stacking them only to topple her own creations as soon as they’re finished, letting out a delighted cackle every time.</p><p>“Do you wish your other uncle was here, too?” Hansol asks quietly as she plays. Inhye looks up again, curious. “Seungkwan-samchon,” he adds, not really sure why he’s bothering to clarify. But Inhye nods seriously, slamming two blocks together half-heartedly.</p><p>“Samchon,” she agrees. Hansol smiles and reaches out to touch her little nose. She wrinkles it immediately and then laughs, her block-clapping picking up enthusiasm. </p><p>He’s startled by the click of a camera lens, and when he looks up his mom is smiling down at him, still holding her phone. Hansol grimaces at her in annoyance, but it’s mostly for show. She waves a hand at him to continue what he was doing, and he focuses his attention back on Inhye.</p><p>“He’ll come back soon,” Hansol tells her quietly, even though she isn’t really the one who needs to be reassured.</p><p> </p><p> </p><p>Hansol doesn’t think it’s as bad as his mom makes it seem. He goes to L.A. for a little while, crashes on Chan and Soonyoung’s couch for a few weeks. Chan lets him come with him to the studio to mess around whenever he wants, and Soonyoung is bright and cheery and — <i>loud</i>, in a way Hansol missed. </p><p>He works on a mini album for one of soloists at the company, a former idol coming back after a two-year break. Ahin is brittle and anxious, snippy more often than not, but there’s humour hiding underneath her polished exterior. They work well together, and Hansol’s proud of the finished product.</p><p>He spends a month with Seulhae and Dokyun before the new baby is born, walking around their run-down neighbourhood with Inhye either clinging to his fingers with sticky hands or riding piggyback, her little arms wrapped around his neck as she shrieks directly into his ear, cheerfully uncaring of Hansol’s discomfort. </p><p>It’s not —</p><p>It’s fine. It isn’t what he wants, but it’s fine, and if he spends the entire time feeling like he’s waiting for something, well.</p><p>That’s just because he is. </p><p> </p><p> </p><p>It’s a long, long winter.</p><p> </p><p> </p><p>Hansol’s mom offers to come pick Seungkwan up when he’s discharged, says the whole family can come welcome him, but Seungkwan politely declines. Hansol can’t tell if he means it, or if he’s just saying that to be dramatic and he’ll be disappointed when he comes out and it’s only Hansol waiting for him. He takes Seungkwan at his word, either way, and makes the journey out to pick him up by himself.</p><p>If Seungkwan is upset, he doesn’t show it — and Seungkwan <i>always</i> shows it, so he must really be fine. He just smiles when he finally picks out where Hansol’s standing to wait, smiling so wide his face looks like it might split open, walking so fast it’s almost a run. Hansol can’t hold back his own stupid smile, the one he knows shows all his teeth. He reaches for Seungkwan’s bag right away, shrugging it over his own shoulder like he can take Seungkwan’s burdens with it. </p><p>Hansol feels a weird rush of a relief when Seungkwan scoots into the middle seat in the cab ride back to their apartment just like he always used to, a comfortable warmth against Hansol’s side. Hansol doesn’t know what to say, just keeps looking over at Seungkwan and laughing breathlessly, barely able to believe he’s really here.</p><p>“Are we just going straight home?” Seungkwan murmurs into Hansol’s shoulder. Hansol nods.</p><p>“Yeah, unless — ”</p><p>“No, no,” Seungkwan cuts in, not letting him finish. “That’s what I want.”</p><p>“Okay,” Hansol says quietly. Seungkwan has managed to pull one of Hansol’s hands over into his own lap, idly playing with Hansol’s fingers. It’s sweet, and familiar. Hansol isn’t sure even he knows he’s doing it. </p><p>Hansol doesn’t make eye contact with the taxi driver, and he doesn’t pull his hand away, either. Seungkwan holds onto it the whole way home.</p><p> </p><p> </p><p>“It wasn’t as bad as I thought it would be,” Seungkwan offers later, the two of them curled up on the living room couch. “Some of the guys were cool. None of us wanted to be there, so at least we all had that in common.”</p><p>Hansol hums in acknowledgment, squeezing Seungkwan closer. </p><p>“Your mom sent me a picture of you and Inhye,” Seungkwan says, after a moment. “And one of the guys saw me looking at it and asked who you were and I panicked, obviously, all, <i>Oh, just a family friend, you know</i>” — and here Seungkwan puts on a fake nervous laugh, mocking himself with such devastating accuracy that Hansol feels a bizarre urge to defend him against himself — “I really thought I was done for, but then he calls over all the rest of the guys and they spent like five full minutes asking me how I managed to make friends with someone so handsome.”</p><p>“Wow,” Hansol says. </p><p>“Right?” Seungkwan asks. “I will never understand straight men.”</p><p>Hansol forces out an awkward chuckle. Seungkwan rubs his cheek against Hansol’s shoulder, pushing close like a needy cat.  </p><p>“I felt really weird after you left,” Hansol says after another long moment. “I kept getting, like. Really scared for no reason.”</p><p>Seungkwan’s head lifts up a little so he can meet Hansol’s gaze. His eyes are very round, full of emotion. </p><p>“I told my mom about it, and she said she felt that way when she sent me and Hangyeol to school,” Hansol continues, not totally sure where he’s going with this. He isn’t like Seungkwan — every story perfectly timed, each landing stuck perfectly. Hansol meanders his way through conversations, only making it to the end of his thoughts half the time. </p><p>Seungkwan makes an encouraging noise, so Hansol tries to keep going. </p><p>“I told her to stop being weird but she said,” Hansol pauses to clear his throat, feeling uncomfortable. Unsure, in a way he isn’t used to feeling with Seungkwan. Even when they talked on the phone it wasn’t like this. “She said, like. She just meant it was because we were so precious to her. It was hard to send us somewhere she couldn’t follow.”</p><p>“Hansol,” Seungkwan says, very quietly. The corners of his eyes are damp.</p><p>“You’re really precious to me,” Hansol says, voice rough. He feels weird saying it out loud, but he needs Seungkwan to know. </p><p>Seungkwan scrubs awkwardly at his eyes.</p><p>“Don’t,” Hansol says, pulling Seungkwan’s hand back. Even his hands are different now — rougher, with new callouses, his cuticles a little ragged. “You’ll hurt yourself.”</p><p>Seungkwan laughs wetly, lets Hansol dab his own shirt sleeves under his eyes instead.</p><p>“I missed you,” Seungkwan says, voice a little wobbly.</p><p>Hansol pulls back to look at Seungkwan properly: at how he’s desperately trying to look normal and only doing a mediocre job of it, lower lip caught between his teeth and the skin around his eyes puffy and red. </p><p>Hansol can’t look away, vaguely afraid that if he lets Seungkwan out of his sight he’ll find himself alone again. </p><p>“We should go visit your sister,” Hansol says abruptly. Seungkwan stares up at him, eyes soft and a little surprised. “Inhye missed you too,” Hansol adds awkwardly, squeezing Seungkwan’s hand where it’s still caught in his grasp.</p><p>“Okay,” Seungkwan says quietly, squeezing back right away. His grip is firm and sure.</p><p>Hansol doesn’t know what he was so worried about, before — of course Seungkwan was always going to come back. Hansol’s never been as sure as anything as he is about this: Seungkwan’s hands, smaller than his but so sure, always finding their way over to him.</p><p>“Okay,” Hansol agrees. He doesn’t let go of Seungkwan’s hand.<br/>
<br/>
</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>it's been hard for me to write these days so this is very short, but i wanted to spend more time with these two! thank you to everyone who's supported this series so far, it really means a lot to me ♡</p></blockquote></div></div>
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